


Shuffle Up

by SapphoIsBurning



Series: Magical Thinking [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Money in the Bank 2017, Tarot, WWE Money In The Bank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11432385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: Dean deals three cards for Baron Corbin, and one for himself.





	Shuffle Up

**Author's Note:**

> I dealt the cards as I wrote this, the morning before Money in the Bank, so Dean's reaction is basically my reaction.

Dean shuffled an oversized deck of cards with blue striped backs. 

It was always weird to be backstage for a pay-per-view he wasn’t on, so he was just trying to stay out of everybody’s way. Money in the Bank was always something more than tense--electric, chaotic maybe.

“What are you doing?” Corbin asked.

“Just like to keep my hands busy,” Dean said, crossing his legs at the ankle. He fanned the cards and then bridged them, the deck rearranging itself with a satisfying thwip. He squared the ends and tapped the edge against the table, then did it again. Brrrrrr thwip.

“Tryin’ to get a spades game together?” Corbin furrowed his eyebrows. He walked over to where Dean was sitting, legs propped up on a table, starting to tilt back in a folding chair. Brrrrr thwip.

“Not that kind of cards, Corbs,” Dean said.

“What are they, then? Gonna tell my fortune?”

“Could,” Dean said with a gleam in his eye. “You really wanna know?”

Corbin rocked back on his heels. “No way, Dean, are those fortune telling cards? Do you really know how to use them?”

“It ain’t that hard, kid,” Dean said. He put his feet down and brushed the dirt of his boots off the table with the sleeve of his jacket. “They got lots of pictures on ‘em.”

He gestured for Corbin to sit, and he did, sliding into a chair across from Dean.

“Blow,” Dean said, holding the deck in front of Corbin’s face.

Corbin blinked, then pursed his lips. He blew gently on the deck of cards, not ruffling an edge.

Dean put the deck down on the table. “Now cut.”

“Am I allowed to touch them?” Corbin asked. “My sister never let me...”

“Sure, kid,” Dean said. That word again. Corbin tugged at the edges of his knit hat, pulling it down to his ears. Then he cut the deck, lifting about half of the cards off and to the side, and putting the bottom half on top of the stack.

“Now pick a card,” Dean said with a smile that showed his dimple. “Any card.”

Corbin drew off the top of the deck. He squinted at the card. “Page of pentacles,” he said.

“Huh,” Dean responded.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Corbin asked.

“Nothing. Just an interesting card. Makes sense.”

“What does it mean?”

“Well what do you think it means,” Dean drawled back.

“I don’t know how to read tarot cards,” Corbin ground out.

“Look at the picture. Tell me what it looks like.”

Corbin held the card up to catch the light. “It’s a kid. He’s holding...a big coin. Like a gold coin. Maybe a stack of them.”

“Well, what do you think a kid holding a bunch of money means?”

“That I’m a kid who wants to make a bunch of money?”

Dean smiled out of the side of his mouth. “Could be, could be. So like, pentacles are about money and the material world.” Dean wiggled his fingers and widened his eyes. “And the pages are like, students. They’re about new stuff, starting projects, jobs, whatever.”

“Does this mean I’m going to win Money in the Bank,” Corbin said seriously.

“Only you know whether you’re going to win Money in the Bank,” Dean shot back. “My money’s on Zayn. But, you know him and me. We go way back.” A shadow of something passed over Dean’s eyes. “Anyway. Page of pentacles. He’s like the student who wants to learn everything. Sometimes he gets too excited. The kid needs a mentor or you gotta do some research to make sure you don’t get taken. But. It’s a good sign,” Dean said. He shrugged one shoulder. “There’s worse cards to pull before a match.”

“Do you do this a lot?” Corbin asked.

“Only in times of trouble,” Dean said. “At least, these days. Don’t gotta make rent turning cards over anymore. It was an okay gig though, as long as you like talking to people. Sad people.”

Corbin took one last look at the card and handed it back to Dean. “I don’t think I would be very good at that.”

“You never know,” Dean said.

“So what does one card mean?” Corbin asked.

Dean pursed his lips. “Whatever you want,” Dean said. “But we can pull another.” Dean gestured across from him to the scratched brown folding table. “Three card spread.” He turned over the next card from the deck, setting it next to the Page.

Corbin looked down at it. “Ace of swords,” he said. “It’s...a sword. Floating in the air, it’s got a crown on it. Am I going to win King of the Ring?”

“Kid, if the cards were that literal, I’d be a richer man with a few more titles,” Dean said. “Settle down.”

“Okay. It’s got...garlands. There’s not that much going on here.”

“Swords are about your brain. This is...I gotta say,” Dean said shaking his head, “This is a pretty good card for you. This is an opportunity. Page of pentacles, a kid who wants to start something; ace of swords, a gift that ain’t given yet. But soon.”

“I’m gonna win Money in the Bank,” Corbin said in a hushed whisper.

“Keep telling yourself that, kid, and it might be true.”

“I want another card,” Corbin said.

“You sure you’re ready?” Dean said. “First card, past. Second card, present. Third card--future. What comes after today.”

“I’ve always kind of been a living in the present guy,” Corbin said.

“No such thing as a two card spread,” Dean said. “You like the present so much, why you trying to get me to tell your future.”

“Can I draw it?” Corbin asked.

“Be my guest.”

Corbin touched the cool shiny surface of the deck. He gingerly flipped over a card and placed it next to the others.

Dean whistled.

“What?” Corbin said. “It’s...the Wheel of Fortune.”

“I’ll say,” Dean said.

“So...fortune?”

“I need to go change my bet.” Dean’s eyebrows were sky high.

“Really?”

“This is a pretty fucking good spread, babe. You got the world on a platter right now. That card means...good luck, basically, like we all have our ups and downs but I think you’re going up.”

“Anything else it tells you?”

“That’s about as much as I got. Don’t you have a match to get ready for?” Dean asked. He wiggled his shoulders, stretching nervously.

“When am I going to see you again?” Corbin asked.

Dean fanned the cards and closed the fan, turning them over and over again in his hands. “The cards don’t say.”

“But do you know?” Corbin insisted.

“Don’t worry about me,” Dean said. “Worry about tonight.”

“Can I have another card?”

“No,” Dean said firmly. “Go warm up. Brush your fucking hair, get your wolf shirt on. You got ladders to climb.”

Corbin got up off of his chair and leaned over the table. “Kiss for good luck?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I don’t kiss clients,” he said waspishly, and looked around. No snitches that he noticed. He bumped his forehead against Corbin’s and his lip curled in a smile. Their noses brushed and Corbin laughed before putting a hand on Dean’s neck and kissing him hard. Dean snuck his tongue into Corbin’s mouth but they separated quickly, hearing the rattle of a rolling equipment dolly coming down the hallway.

“I’ll see you later,” Corbin said firmly. He backed away, not turning around.

“Okay,” Dean said.

Once Corbin was out of sight, Dean turned over another card. Two people looked into each other’s eyes, clutching a couple of big-ass chalices.

“Okay, I can take a fucking hint,” Dean said, eyes glancing upward, then back down at the Two of Cups. He swept the cards back into a pile and wrapped a dirty rubber band around them, shoving them into his jacket pocket. He thought about the briefcase. The blue one was ugly, but he wasn’t going to tell Corbin that. It would suit him just fine.


End file.
